smile goddamit!
This morning on the BART platform, while waiting for the Richmond train, which was delayed due to a fire that started at the SF Embarcadero BART station, a very happy man implored the other travelers to be happy.
“This is America! Be happy! Smile or your face will remain sad!”
“Hello biker! Hello man in suit! Hello lady! Hello!”
He sure liked to smile. He frightened me with his smiling and I moved farther away.
He looked so happy.
“This is a trinity, that’s what it is. I was with these other folks on the San Francisco bound train and now here we are again, back on the platform! Bad things come in threes! Death comes in threes! Kirby Puckett and Christopher Reeves’ wife, and there will be one more! But no one today! Let’s smile!”
He was riding a bicycle and wearing an odd bicycle helmet.
Yesterday Dan and I took a bike ride. I told him stories of riding double with Elly down gigantic hills, wiping out, and getting gravel deeply embedded in our knees and palms. But no teeth knocked out!
That’s my mom and my stepfather Roger. Roger is 4 years older than Dan. Roger is 9 years older than me and 9 years younger than my father. God bless family weirdness!
This is me and Dan. Isn’t it sad that he won’t grow a moustache as glorious as Roger’s, or wear a tractor sweatshirt? They both do like dogs though. And baseball.
“This is America! Be happy! Smile or your face will remain sad!”
“Hello biker! Hello man in suit! Hello lady! Hello!”
He sure liked to smile. He frightened me with his smiling and I moved farther away.
He looked so happy.
“This is a trinity, that’s what it is. I was with these other folks on the San Francisco bound train and now here we are again, back on the platform! Bad things come in threes! Death comes in threes! Kirby Puckett and Christopher Reeves’ wife, and there will be one more! But no one today! Let’s smile!”
He was riding a bicycle and wearing an odd bicycle helmet.
Yesterday Dan and I took a bike ride. I told him stories of riding double with Elly down gigantic hills, wiping out, and getting gravel deeply embedded in our knees and palms. But no teeth knocked out!
That’s my mom and my stepfather Roger. Roger is 4 years older than Dan. Roger is 9 years older than me and 9 years younger than my father. God bless family weirdness!
This is me and Dan. Isn’t it sad that he won’t grow a moustache as glorious as Roger’s, or wear a tractor sweatshirt? They both do like dogs though. And baseball.